Is Anyone There At All?
by realmsoffreedom
Summary: When James starts to feel sick, he thinks nothing of it, and brushes it aside. The first of many mistakes, what started as a minor illness manifests itself into something much more serious. Written for the BTR Plot Adoption Forum Sickfic Challenge.


**It's been forever since I've written a BTR story, damn. I found out about the sickfic challenge on the BTR plot adoption forum through Dani (BigTimeRush-BTR) and decided I'd try it. Writing this has kinda reignited my love for these four boys, trust me, I've watched so many episodes and listened to their music on repeat throughout all of it. The illness I got was tuberculosis, and I really hope I did it justice. Trigger warning - there's self-harm, mentions of abuse/neglect, and bullying in this, so please be careful. Enjoy.**

* * *

It starts with a cough.

He presses his hand to his chest, wincing as a resounding ache settles itself at its center. The fit doesn't last very long, only about three seconds, but long enough to make him appear tipsy afterward, like he's had a few drinks, when the reality is that he hasn't touched a drop of alcohol in about a week.

"Jay? You okay?"

James blinks, shaking his head, and accepts the bottle of water Logan's holding out to him. He unscrews the cap and presses it to his lips, taking a long swig. The water does wonders to soothe his irritated throat. He can feel it in his chest, the cooling sensation bringing him back to tranquility.

"Fine." The scratchiness of his voice surprises him. He can't be getting sick, not now. Being part of a band, his voice is his instrument, and sore throats are the literal devil. Gustavo will _not_ be happy if he ends up sick. Although, judging by how he sounds and feels, James knows the inevitable is coming.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Logan's palm coming closer to his forehead, and sighs. "I'm okay, Logan. I don't have a fever."

Logan sighs, the worry unsurprisingly not leaving his face. That's just the way Logan is. He worries enough for all four of them combined. "This really isn't a good time to get sick, Jay. Our tour kicks off next week."

"I know," James replies. "So it's a good thing I'm not getting sick."

"Sick? Who's getting sick? None of us can afford to get sick right now." Now Kendall's staring at them while standing at the island, having abandoned his phone from where he was probably texting his girlfriend.

"No one's getting sick," he repeats, firmer this time. "I'm fine."

* * *

James isn't sure he was right about the 'not getting sick' thing.

He's coughing a lot more now – although he also isn't sure if that's because he's getting sick or because Gustavo is making them practice the choreography for their entire set. He's determined on it being perfect, and even though it's definitely very close to perfect, their producer isn't satisfied.

All the jumping and fast paced dancing is making not sick turn into dangerously close to sick. He's no Logan, but James knows he isn't supposed to be feeling this exhausted and dizzy and his chest isn't supposed to hurt this much when he coughs.

"Dogs, take five," Gustavo orders, as he steps into the dance studio. He makes his way over to talk to Mr. X, and Kelly follows, shooting them a reassuring smile.

"Thank fucking god," James mutters under his breath, grabbing his water bottle and taking a long swig. He's not sure how much longer he can handle these rehearsals. If he really is getting sick, it's best for him to try and take it easy and rest up before tour starts, but knowing Gustavo, that's far from likely.

"This tour's gonna be amazing!" Carlos says, capping his own water bottle. "I'm so fucking excited to tour again, god, you guys have no idea…"

"We've done this so many times and it's never something you get used to," Kendall adds. "And I kinda like that, because if it was something we were used to, it'd be more of a chore than an experience. Touring is just…something else. I can't explain it, but I'm pretty sure you guys know what I mean. It's indescribable."

"Touring makes me feel like I've had an impact on the world," James says softly. "Like I'm not just a pretty face. It makes me feel like I've done something with my life, like I'm doing something with my life. Seeing all those girls in the audience so happy because of _me_ …" He trails off, shaking his head. "It's amazing."

"Jay, you know you're more than a pretty face to us…" Carlos starts, putting a hand on his shoulder. "We love you for you, not because you're attractive."

"So you're saying I'm _not_ attractive?"

"That's not what I meant!"

"Damn, I didn't know you rolled that way, Carlitos," Kendall smirks, grinning when Carlos glares at him.

"I have a girlfriend, jesus christ."

"That doesn't mean anything. You could be bi or pan," Logan informs him. "And to save you the trouble of asking me what those mean, being bi, or bisexual, means you're attracted to two genders, and being pan, or pansexual, means you're attracted to any gender. If you're pan, you're _not_ attracted to pans, although that's what you were probably thinking."

"Smartass," Kendall mumbles under his breath, yelping when Logan punches him in the shoulder.

"I'm straight," Carlos insists. "And I hate all of you."

* * *

It's easy to see that Gustavo is getting frustrated.

James knows that his constant coughing and scratchy, hoarse voice are starting to really piss off their producer. He's trying to hold back the coughs, but stifling them only leads to a longer, worse coughing fit later on. It's counterproductive. And because of him, they're not getting anything done in terms of recording for their new album. He already screwed up the dancing because he couldn't stop coughing and it made his chest hurt. And now he's screwing up the singing too. Gustavo is not pleased.

He's under an insane amount of stress with the upcoming tour and the new album, and James can tell that this is only making him want to throw something at them. Kelly even looks somewhat terrified, not knowing how Gustavo's going to react. This was the absolute _worst_ time to get sick.

"Dogs, take the rest of the day off," their producer mutters, his voice strained. James can tell he's putting all his strength into not yelling at them, and he appreciates that. Their relationship with Gustavo has gotten a lot better since their most recent album was released. It's not the best, and he still has his extremely intolerable days, but it's so much better than what it was when they first got to LA.

"He'll be better tomorrow," Logan reassures him. "I'll figure out how to get him to stop coughing."

"You better!"

* * *

"Alright Jay, you need to take something for that cough."

He shrugs at Logan's statement and shakes his had. "I'm fine. It's just allergies. They'll clear up in a day or two."

"It's the fucking dead of winter, James," Logan snaps back. "We may not be getting snow, but nothing is blooming. There are no plants to pollenate that will exacerbate your allergies. You're sick."

"I'm not!"

"If he wants to be stubborn, Loges, let him." Kendall enters the conversation with a dismissive remark, more interested in his phone than anything. "His loss."

"Shut up, Ken _dork_."

"Wow, real mature."

"At least I'm not too damn stubborn to accept help when I clearly need it."

"Go to hell, Kendall."

* * *

"Goddammit Logan, you just made us lo- you're not even looking at the screen!"

Logan sighs. "Sorry, I'm just worried about James...he didn't look too good at dinner."

"You gotta learn to let go sometimes, Loges. If James wants help, he'll ask. It's not your job to anticipate his problems before he even has them," Kendall says. "He'll be okay. If he's so insistent on ignoring his sickness, it can't be that bad, can it?"

"James doesn't like asking for help," Logan replies. "And so he lets things build and build until they explode, and we're not able to help him. So excuse me for being worried about him."

Kendall reaches over to turn off the Xbox, knowing Logan won't be in a mood to play anything else until his worries about James have been calmed. Logan gets like that, when he's anxious and nervous about something, and his mind is entirely captured by it. He can't do anything else, talk about anything else, or even think about anything else if something on his mind is worrying him. It can get annoying at times.

"Logan, listen. James is seventeen years old. He's not stupid. He knows his limits, and he knows when he needs help. And if he says he's not sick, fine. Believe him. He'll come to you when he realizes he can't handle it on his own."

"What if that's too late?" Logan shoots back. "What if he has appendicitis and his appendix ruptures and he _dies_ because he was too fucking proud to ask for help, and I was too fucking stupid to realize he needed it? What then, Kendall?"

"Stop assuming the worst possible outcome." Kendall rolls his eyes. "He doesn't have appendicitis. He's coughing. It's a minor cold. And he'll get over it in a couple days, and when he feels shitty, he'll regret not coming to you sooner and crawl back with his tail between his legs. I've been friends with James the longest, I know how he works. Trust me on this."

* * *

"Jay, I know you don't want to, but I really think you need to go to Logan for this."

"I'm not telling Logan," James croaks hoarsely. "He'll tell Kendall, and that'll mean Kendall was right. And I am _not_ letting Kendall be right about one more damn thing."

Carlos sighs. "I don't know how to help you. Logan does. And you need help."

"It's just a cold, Carlitos." James forces a smile. "I'm fine."

"A cold shouldn't have you coughing so hard your chest hurts."

"I'm fine," James insists. "Stop worrying."

"Alright, listen. You can tell Kendall and Logan you're fine until you're blue in the face, but that won't work on me. I know you, James. You're not fine. And for the love of corndogs, be honest with me. You don't have to tell Logan if you don't want to, but you better be honest about how you feel with me."

"Fine," James mutters. "I feel like death."

"Well, what hurts?"

"My goddamn chest," James groans. "Every time I cough, it feels like there's fire burning in my lungs. It's fuckin' agony. And I'm so exhausted and the crib has never been this fuckin' cold, and god, I hate this."

"You could tell Logan, and he'd know what to do…"

"Carlos!"

* * *

"So Jo's on set, Katie and my mom are in Minnesota, James is making it seem like he's sicker than he is and Carlos is stupid enough to fall for it, and you are… _please_ don't tell me you're reading every textbook you own to try and figure out what's wrong with James," Kendall mutters, glancing at all the books spread out all over their couches.

"Don't have time to tell you, reading."

"God, Logan, will you just give it a rest?" Kendall snaps. "James is not going to die because you can't figure out what's wrong with him. We _all_ know what's wrong with him. He has a minor cold that he's dramatizing because _he_ is a drama queen. That's all. Now let's go skate boarding in the park."

"Can't, reading." Kendall rolls his eyes. James has Logan under his spell, like always. The taller boy has always been a dramatic person, and that's been heightened ever since they became a band. What seems like the plague to him is most likely just a stupid cold, and Kendall isn't in the mood to waste time worrying about what James could have, when he knows James is just making his illness seem like more than it is to gain sympathy.

"Are you kidding me? You're gonna read that textbook to try and pretend James has some kind of horrible disease, when you could just be having fun and living life? We have the rest of the day off! That doesn't happen that often! Let's make the most of it!"

Logan looks up and sighs. "Ken, I'm sorry. I know you think it's just a cold, but I know something isn't right here. And James is not someone I'm gonna take my chances on. So I'm going to sit here and go through every book until I find something that can explain his symptoms. If you don't want to help, you can go, but I'm not moving until I find something concrete that's wrong besides a minor cold."

* * *

He feels like he's going to die.

The never-ending cough has turned wet, sticky and disgusting. He's coughing up phlegm constantly, and it's so gross. His chest keeps aching, his head keeps spinning, and he's just so damn done with this sickness.

It's been so long that he doesn't remember what it feels like to be healthy. He doesn't remember what it feels like to not be hacking his lungs up 24/7, to not constantly not be able to breathe because he's so congested, to not feel like a rhino is sitting on his chest every time he tries to move. He doesn't feel okay. He hasn't felt okay in a very long time. And everything's just getting worse by the day, and he's seriously regretting refusing Logan's help.

Logan doesn't care. Not anymore. Not since stupid Kendall opened his eyes and made him see how pointless it is to try and babysit the idiot that doesn't realize when things are about to blow up in his face. James knows it's his fault for not letting Logan help him, but he didn't realize things would get this bad. He had no idea it would get to this point.

"Jay? Hey, drink some water." A cool hand presses a bottle to his lips, and he sips water greedily, drinking so fast he almost chokes. The frigid liquid is heaven to his swollen, irritated throat, and creates a cool feeling in his chest that soothes some of the ache.

"We have rehearsal in an hour," Carlos says, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. "And I really don't think you should come, it's too much for you right now. I'll stay home with you."

James shakes his head, moving to sit up and wincing at the head rush it brings. "I'm fine. I'll come with you guys. I can't miss rehearsals, Gustavo will have my ass."

"You're sick," Carlos deadpans. "I think he'd rather you stay home and rest than push yourself when you're not up to it and end up even worse off."

"I'm _fine_ , Carlos."

"Tell that to the 101.4 degree fever."

"You took my temperature?"

"You keep falling asleep, it wasn't hard to do it without you noticing." James follows Carlos' gaze and sees a thermometer sitting next to a glass of water on Logan's desk. He sighs. Carlos is just worrying too much. It's a cough, a light fever, and some chest pain. It's not a big deal. There's no reason he can't go to rehearsal.

"I'm coming to rehearsals, Carlos. And that's final." He swings his legs over the side of the bed and grabs the edge of his nightstand, pushing himself up. The dizziness hits almost immediately, and he falls back, eventually finding himself laying on his back with his eyes closed, trying to stop his head from spinning.

"Still think you're up for it?"

"Fuck off," James mutters, rolling over.

* * *

"I'm gonna stay back with James," Carlos says, closing the bedroom door behind him. "I don't want him to stay here by himself if he's this sick."

"Ugh, seriously, again with that?" Kendall groans. "He's _fine_. He's just making a mountain out of a molehill, like he usually does. Don't fall for his spell, Carlos. Once you're sucked in, you can't get out."

"This isn't me in a trance because of some girl, Kendall!" Carlos snaps back. "This is our _best friend_. You've known James since you were five years old, don't you think we've _all_ learned how to tell if he's being dramatic or actually telling the truth? He has a fever, chest pains, and a cough that won't fuckin' go away, so no, it's not a minor cold. He's sick."

"But it doesn't make sense," Logan cuts in. "None of his symptoms match up with anything I've read." He gestures to all the books surrounding him with a shrug. "At first, I thought pneumonia, but James doesn't have most of the symptoms that come with it. I gotta agree with Kendall on this one. He's making it seem worse than it is."

Carlos exhales a huffy breath in frustration, closing his eyes. When did he become smarter than them? When did he become the logical one? And most importantly, when did Logan lose this much faith in James?

It's no secret that Logan and James are the closest out of all of them. They've just gravitated to each other – James' confident personality balances out Logan's shyer one perfectly. Carlos understands Kendall being wary of James, but Logan? It doesn't make sense. Kendall's spouting a bunch of bullshit, and Logan, too scared to go against him, is listening and internalizing it like a minion. It's a fucked up cycle.

"Logan, can I talk to you?" He tries to make himself sound less angry than he actually is, because if Kendall catches on, he'll no doubt find himself in the middle of the argument with the blonde, and that is not high on his To-Do list at the moment.

Logan joins him a few moments later, tilting his head and looking at him curiously, like he honestly has no idea what he's is about to say. That only pisses Carlos off even more, and he makes sure Logan knows it when he talks. "You're being a fucking idiot right now, do you not get that? Kendall isn't always right. He fucks up sometimes, just like the rest of us. And right now, Kendall _definitely_ isn't right, because there is something seriously wrong with James, and you're letting it go, because – I don't even know why, to be honest. You're not gonna bruise Kendall's ego if you don't listen to him. And if you do, big fuckin' deal. He'll get over it. Pull your head out of your ass and use your damn brain, will you?"

Logan stares, dumbfounded, back at him, and Carlos sighs, bringing a hand to his temple. "Sorry. I didn't mean to go off on you like that, it's just kinda scary to see your best friend suffering and hear that your other best friend, who wants to be a goddamn doctor, won't acknowledge it."

"Carlos, I-"

"Save it," Carlos mutters. "I'll go to rehearsals with Kendall. You stay here and see for yourself that James isn't okay."

* * *

"Jay?"

Logan makes his way into the room he shares with James nervously. Carlos made it seem like James is _really_ doing bad, and he isn't sure what to expect. What's horrible for Carlos may not be as bad in his mind. Carlos isn't really well versed in medicine, so he can't tell really badly from not as bad. Logan can. But his hands are shaking and his heart is pounding and it's starting to get really hard to do something as simple as breathing.

He's had anxiety for years. Because just surviving the bullying wasn't enough, it had to leave him with crippling uneasiness and frequent panic attacks. Daily doses of Xanax keep it under control, so much so that he appears normal. Normal enough that Gustavo and Kelly have no idea he even has an anxiety disorder. There's no reason to tell them, not when he can function perfectly fine if he takes his meds.

That doesn't mean there's an off button for anxiety. It doesn't come with power switch. There's no way to turn it off; it's like a volcano at the back of his mind, just waiting for the right time to erupt. His attacks are irregular, like most people who suffer with anxiety will say. There are good days and bad days alike, although recently there have been more good than bad. Until now.

Just looking at James makes him tear up. He sees what Carlos was talking about almost instantly. Holy fucking shit.

James is pale, almost a pasty white, and he's sweating. His hair is plastered to his forehead, and while it looks like he's just taken a dip in the pool, Logan knows that's not the case. Bottom line; James looks awful and Logan is sure he's never hated himself more.

"Jay?"

"G'way," James croaks. Logan winces. His voice sounds horrible, like he's been screaming for hours. It sends the guilt digging further into his heart with a piercing claw. This is all his fault. If he had just stopped listening to Kendall, James wouldn't be this sick and he wouldn't be overridden with immense guilt. He ruins everything.

"I'm so sorry," Logan breathes, dropping to his knees next to James' bed and grabbing the hand that's hanging off the edge. "I'm so fucking sorry, Jay. I had no idea it was this bad. I should've been more persistent; I shouldn't have listened to Kendall. God, this is all my fault."

"Why?" James asks hoarsely. "I didn't want to listen to you. You tried to help. My fault, not yours."

"You didn't know any better," Logan replies. "I knew it wasn't just a minor cold. It was probably a flu, and now it's turned into something much worse. I'm so fucking sorry. You wouldn't be in this much pain if it weren't for me."

James shakes his head, grimacing. "Stop blaming yourself. Can't change what happened. M'not even that sick."

"Oh no you don't, not with that again," Logan says tearfully. The emotion has manifested itself into a lump in his throat, and tears are burning at the corners of his eyes. It's not like him to get this emotional, but he's closest to James, out of the three of his best friends, and seeing him in this weak state is heartbreaking. "You're not pulling that one on me again."

James doesn't respond verbally; instead, he closes his eyes and lets out a loud whimper. Logan sighs, leaning forward and pressing his palm to James' forehead. He pulls it back moments later, as his heat starts to race. James' fever is way too high. He's burning up.

He glances around the room, wondering if Carlos thought to take James' temperature. If he did, there's probably a thermometer lying around somewhere. It would save him from having to leave James to go find one. Sure enough, there's a thermometer on his desk, alongside a glass of water and a note pad.

Logan grabs the thermometer and looks over at the notepad. _101.2. 102.6. 103.1. Call Logie if it gets any higher._ He feels the knife of guilt press further into his heart, as he stares at Carlos' messy handwriting. He had no idea what to do to lower James' fever, but at least he was smart enough to record the temperature periodically.

"I'm just gonna take your temperature real quick, okay bud? Can you open for me?" Logan breathes a sigh of relief when James complies. That means he's responsive, and his fever can't be that much higher than it was. He's not delirious, thank god for that.

The thermometer beeps, and Logan plucks it out of James' mouth to read it. "103.7," he mutters. "That's really not good. It's gone up 0.6 degrees."

"I feel like shit," James mumbles. "What's wrong with me, Logie? Why do I feel so bad?"

Logan sighs, shaking his head. "I don't know, Jay. I really don't know. But I'm going to figure it out. I promise you, I'm not gonna rest until I figure out what this is and how to help you."

* * *

"You're really a dick, you know?" Carlos says angrily, grabbing his water bottle and storming out of the dance studio after Kendall. The constant comments about how James is making a big deal out of nothing are really starting to piss him off. There's a point when you can go too far, and Kendall's dangerously close to it. The worst part is that he doesn't even seem to care. "And you don't even feel the least bit guilty about being such an ass."

Kendall rolls his eyes. "I've known James for twelve years. He's a fucking drama queen. He makes everything out to be a lot worse than it actually is. That's just the way he works. If you fall for his act, it just becomes easier for him to keep doing it. So I'm not gonna let him win this time."

"When we left," Carlos says steely, turning so he can look Kendall in the eye. "When we left, he had a fucking 103.1 degree fever. I let Logan stay back with him because he knows way more about this shit than I do, and he'd actually be able to do something for James. And he would've been able to do something a lot earlier, if you hadn't been such a dick about the whole thing."

It's hard, standing up to Kendall. They don't fight often, but when they do, it turns really shitty really quickly. Kendall is an extremely stubborn person, and well set in his ways. He doesn't change his mind easily. When he's on the same side as the rest of them, that's a blessing, but when it's him against them, it's a curse. Kendall's anger is strong enough to rival all three of them, even though he's just one person. If he was a character in a book, that'd be his fatal flaw. His uncontrollable temper.

Kendall seems to deflate at Carlos' last words, his stance weakening. He finally looks somewhat remorseful about his actions, but it's too late now. "Is he okay? I mean…that sounds bad. Is he alright?"

"No fucking clue," Carlos spits back, glaring at him. "But he's probably worse than he was yesterday, thanks to you and your fucking hard headedness."

* * *

"How's he doing, Loges?"

Logan balances his phone between his ear and shoulder, and reaches up to open Mrs. Knight's medicine cabinet. It's typically fully stocked with every remedy for every sickness one could imagine. Living with five teenagers, four of which make a living off singing, sickness is not foreign in the least.

"His fever went up," Logan says, grabbing a bottle of Tylenol. "I'm gonna give him some fever reducers, and hopefully that should bring it down some. It's starting to get to the point where he'll need to go to the hospital. Fevers are the body's natural way of fighting off sickness, overheating the body to burn out the bacteria, but there's a certain point where they get too high and that needs medical attention because brain cells start deteriorating."

Carlos gulps on the other line, and when he speaks, his voice is shaky. "How…how close to that are we?"

"His fever is 103.7," Logan replies. "And brain cells start dying at 106. So we've got about two degrees until we have a problem."

"Do you think it'll go down?"

"If the medicine does its job, definitely," Logan says gently. "Don't worry too much, Carlitos. I know what I'm doing. He's going to be okay."

"He'd be better if you'd gotten to him sooner."

"Carlos…"

"Don't say anything," Carlos says bitterly. "Can't change the past, can we? Just do what you can, Logan. Do whatever you have to, to get his fever down."

"Is Kendall still angry?" Logan ventures.

"I think he finally gets that he's a fucking dick," Carlos mutters. "I told him how high James' fever was before we left, and he just walked off. He hasn't been back since. Gustavo's pissed. But I think he finally realizes that this is all his fucking fault."

"It's not totally his fault. James should've said something earlier."

"Oh, sure. Blame James. He was more concerned with the tour and recording and all the shit we have to do. He didn't fucking know better," Carlos growls. "You did. And Kendall shouldn't have downplayed it as him being a fucking drama queen."

"Carlos-"

Logan's answer is a dial tone.

* * *

"There you go, hopefully that should work."

Logan fidgets as he stands at the edge of James' bed, watching James swallow the Tylenol with a grimace. The conversation he had with Carlos is still turning in his head, and his heart speeds up every time he thinks about how angry Carlos must be at him. He's always hated having people mad at him.

"I'm gonna let you get some rest," he mutters lowly, pulling the blanket up for his friend. "You'll feel better once you've slept."

James is half-asleep already, and this is his cue to let the drowsiness take over fully. Logan can hear soft snores within seconds, and it forces a sigh of relief out of him. Kendall and Carlos are going to be gone for at least another two hours. Two hours of solitude, and he couldn't be happier.

He escapes into the bathroom and sits in front of the sink with his back against the wall. This is his fucking fault. It's his fault that James is so sick, and Carlos is so fucking pissed at him. As he should be, because he's a fucking idiot and he ruins everything.

It's been that way for as long as he can remember. He's been that awkward kid with no friends. He's been the bullying target for as long as he can remember, and even now, he's still the one Gustavo hates the most, and the one that most hate comments are directed toward. It takes a toll on a person.

He started cutting when he was 12, specifically the day he was shoved into a locker, pantsed in the middle of the cafeteria, and told to kill himself. The addiction was quick forming, and it helped him immensely, or so he thought. James found out about a year later, and he managed to stop with the brunette's help when he was 15. It's been almost three years since he's even considered doing it again.

But now, flipping his wrist over and seeing the lines of white scars is almost triggering. He's hallucinating the blood that'd be there if he cut, and it's triggering him. The last time he felt this bad was back in the 10th grade when all people wanted to do was pick on him.

What hurts more than what Carlos even _said_ , is that he feels the same way now, and Carlos is supposed to be one of his best friends.

He grabbed his old blade on the way out of his and James' shared room. He never got rid of it. It made the journey to LA because it was his way of testing himself to see if he was strong enough to resist. It's easier to crave something that isn't there. But having the blade in a box under his bed and being fully cognizant of that fact would be a true testament to prove he's recovered. Well, that recovery is all about to go to shit.

"James would be so angry," he whispers to himself. "But he's sick and it's my fault and nothing I ever do will be right. So I guess I fucking deserve this, don't I? I guess this is my punishment for ignoring James and being so fucking blind to the fact that one of my best friends, one of my _brothers_ , was suffering. This is my punishment."

He drags the blade across his skin.

* * *

It's terrifying, how fast bad can go to worse.

James has been sick for almost two weeks, and he doesn't know what to do.

It doesn't add up. The high fever, the chills, the coughing, the chest pain…none of it makes sense. The most probable diagnosis is pneumonia, but Logan knows that chest x-rays need to be done to confirm it, and getting James to go to the hospital is like getting Kendall to admit he's wrong. It will never happen.

"Jay, listen," Logan says desperately, hands on James' shoulders. "You _need_ to let us take you to the hospital. This is starting to get dangerous. You're not getting any better."

"M'fine," James mumbles. "Gustavo's pissed that we had to move the tour."

"He'll be even more pissed if you die from fucking pneumonia!" Logan cries. "This isn't a joke, this is your health we're talking about! Please just listen to me!"

James shakes his head. "No hospital. I've been feeling better, I swear."

Logan rolls his eyes. "Eleven years and I can tell when you're lying to me, Jay. You feel like shit. Don't try and hide it."

"I'm fine, Loges," James rasps, reaching for one of Logan's hands. "Stop worrying so much. You're gonna make yourself crazy."

"You make me crazy," Logan mumbles, as James tugs at his arm. James is way too weak to pull him down onto the mattress, but he got the hint with the tugging. He pulls James into a hug and rests his head in the crook of his best friend's neck, sighing heavily.

"You need to get better, Jay. I hate seeing you this sick. And I'm not going to force you to go to the hospital yet, because I know why you don't want to go, but…if you get worse, you're going. And that's final."

* * *

"Turn that down, Jay just fell asleep."

Logan slumps onto the couch, and pulls out his phone. He unlocks it and immediately opens Twitter, liking a few fan tweets and replying to some overly eager fangirls. Doing this always brightens his day, because the reactions he gets are amazing. The fans get so excited, and it makes him happy to know that he's the one causing it.

"Is he still refusing to go to the hospital?" Carlos asks.

"Yeah," Logan replies, without looking up. "He's insistent on the fact that he's getting better, although I'm not sure how much I believe him."

"So why not just drag his stubborn ass to the hospital?" Kendall mutters. "It's bad enough that he waited too long to admit there was something wrong."

"I see you're still being a fucking bitter asshole about the entire situation," Carlos shoots back. The two of them have been going back and forth, constantly arguing and shooting rude remarks at each other, and it's seriously starting to annoy him. Kendall and Carlos are usually so close, and it really sucks to see them constantly bickering about the stupidest things.

"Must you two fight?" He mutters, rolling his eyes.

"Must you not answer my question?"

"He hates hospitals," Logan says. "He won't go unless he absolutely has to."

"I hate dance rehearsal, doesn't mean I don't go to it!"

"You hate dance rehearsal because Gustavo's annoying and you're not the biggest fan of dancing," Logan deadpans. "James hates hospitals because of his traumatic childhood. There's a difference."

* * *

"You think you're up to eating something, bud?"

James groans, blinking sleepily. "Huh?"

Logan seats himself on the edge of James' bed, and reaches over to feel his forehead. He smiles, and nods thoughtfully. "Your fever's gone down. Do you want to eat something? You haven't had anything in a while – you must be hungry."

"M'not," James mumbles. "Wanna sleep."

"I know you do, but you need to eat."

"Logie…"

"We're just gonna try some broth, Jay, okay? Just broth. It'll be light on your stomach. You need to eat."

"Don't want it."

Logan sighs. "Your body needs fuel. That's what's going to help you get better. Please, Jay. I don't want to argue with you while you're sick. The faster we get this over with, the faster you can go back to sleep."

James agrees, albeit reluctantly. Logan breathes a sigh of relief, and reaches over to help him into a sitting position. James grimaces, exhausted. His head is heavy and his entire body hurts. Being sick is the fucking worst.

* * *

"Kendall, I need to go out and grab some more medicine. Carlos is at the pool, so can you keep an eye on James?"

Kendall shrugs nonchalantly, not looking away from the TV. He knows he's coming off as a complete dick, but he's had enough of putting up with James' crap. It's been happening throughout their entire friendship – James fucks up, and then needs him to try and pick up the pieces. He's sick of it.

"Ken, I'm not kidding," Logan says firmly. "Check on him. Make sure he's okay. His fever's already in the 103 range – we could be looking at an ER trip if it keeps getting higher."

"You worry too much, Loges," Kendall replies. "I'm sure he'll be fine."

Logan opens his mouth to answer, but he's stopped when they both hear a fit of coughing. It takes a good two minutes for it to die down, and when it does, Logan glares at him. "He's _not_ fine. Carlos was right about you, you really _are_ a dick. Now, are you going to be a fucking decent human being and watch him while I run to the store, or do I have to call Carlos up here?"

"I'll watch him," Kendall mutters.

Logan leaves in a huff, and he sighs, leaning back against the couch and focusing back on the TV. Barely two minutes have passed, before another coughing fit starts. The coughs sound horrible, wet and disgusting. James is coughing so much that he's almost gagging. Kendall's starting to get a sick feeling at the pit of his stomach, like something is definitely wrong. _Maybe_ _Logan and Carlos have been right all along…_

"James? You okay?" He rises to his feet, and makes his way into Logan and James' room. Logan did say to check on him, so even if James tells him to fuck off, he won't be lying when he says he did check on him. "James?"

"Get out."

"James, c'mon, Logan told me to make sure you're okay."

"Is that gonna magically make you care about me?" James retorts hoarsely. "I'm sick, not deaf. I've heard everything you've said about me."

"I…I didn't mean it…"

"Really? You seemed pretty serious," James says bitterly. "Go away. I don't wanna be too much of a _drama queen_." He bites the last word, throwing Kendall's insults straight back into his face.

An apology wouldn't do anything to remedy the situation, so Kendall doesn't even bother. He turns away, starting for the door, when he hears James cough again.

It sounds so much worse up close. He thought it sounded back sitting ten feet away, but now that the distance between them is barely five feet, he can hear just how bad James' cough sounds. He's practically hacking up a lung, and when Kendall turns around, he sees James' right hand pressed to his chest, a signal that the coughs feel just as bad as they look. Carlos and Logan were definitely right. And he's the literal embodiment of the worst best friend on the fucking planet, coupled with the most idiotic human being in the world. James has been suffering, and he played it off as nothing.

He makes his way over to James' bedside, and that's when he has the chance to see the pool of blood that's been created on James' duvet. His best friend is literally coughing up blood.

Kendall hasn't paid attention to any of the medical jargon that's come out of Logan's mouth in the past few weeks, but if he knows one thing, it's that coughing up blood is _not_ good.

There's something terribly wrong with James.

* * *

His phone has been vibrating incessantly in his pocket ever since he got to the grocery store, and Logan's about to hurl it against a wall.

It's probably Gustavo, wanting to know if James is okay so he can start rescheduling dates for their tour. He doesn't want to vilify their producer, but Gustavo is known for his self-centered tendencies and his ability to prioritize album releases and tour dates over the boys' own health. He's gotten better, as years have gone by, but that doesn't mean he's still not the same old Gustavo who broke a teacup when Kendall refused to come out to LA with him.

He ignores it, going back to reading the label on a generic brand of fever reducer. It's cheaper than Tylenol because it's not brand name, and although money isn't a problem, the generic brands of most medicines tend to stay off recall.

The buzzing stops for a few moments, only to start up again a few moments later. "Dammit," Logan mutters. He slams the bottle back on the shelf and pulls his phone out of his pocket, desperate to see what was important enough for someone to keep blowing up his phone.

10 missed calls, 15 texts, and 4 voicemails, all from Kendall.

His heart speeds up immediately, the panic beginning to set in. He doesn't know what's wrong, but something is definitely not right with James. Rather than listening to the voicemails and reading the texts, effectively managing to make the panic worse, he decides to just call Kendall back.

"Finally!" Kendall says, skipping pleasantries and getting right into the status quo. Logan appreciates that. He needs to know what's going on. "James was coughing up blood, so I had to bring him to the hospital. They just took him back; they won't let me back there with him. I don't…I'm way out of my league here, Loges. The doctor's probably going to come back soon with an update on James and I'll have no fucking clue what he's saying. You need to get here."

"Shit," Logan curses. "I…um, I…"

"Calm down," Kendall says gently. "Don't panic. You can't have a panic attack right now, Loges. Forget about the groceries. Just get here as soon as possible."

* * *

"Fucking hell, did he go to a grocery store on the other side of town or something? Where _is_ he?"

"He's probably really anxious right now," Kendall says. "You know how bad his anxiety gets in stressful situations. Getting a phone call about James being in the hospital is definitely something that'd knock him on his ass. You know how close they are."

"That doesn't explain why he's not here yet."

"It's Logan," Kendall deadpans. "You know Logan. He'll be here, just hang on. We got James here in time, and they're doing whatever they can to make him feel better. That's all you should be focusing on right now."

Carlos crosses his arms over his chest and sighs. He wants to make some kind of snarky remark, but he doesn't feel like getting into an argument with Kendall. After all, Kendall is the one who noticed James was coughing up blood and thought to bring him in. If he hadn't checked on James when he did, things could've gotten a lot worse. Deep down, under all the stubborn, bull-headedness that is Kendall's personality, is someone so determined to make sure his brothers are okay. That's who Kendall's always been. Even though he hasn't shown it recently, that's always been the personality that emanates from him.

"I'm sorry, Carlitos," Kendall says, after a few more minutes have passed. "You were right all along. And I'm the biggest idiot on the planet. I can't believe it took me so long to realize how much of a dick I was being. I don't deserve forgiveness, but I want you to know that I _am_ sorry."

"About time you realized you fucked up," Carlos mutters. "I just don't _get_ it, Ken. You're normally the first to help out with these things. You're the one that yells at Gustavo and becomes fiercely overprotective of anyone standing in your way of making sure we're okay. Why was it different this time?"

Kendall sighs. "I…I don't know how to answer that. I've just been really stressed about the tour, I haven't been able to get the choreo right for a few songs, and Jo and I are fighting, so things are kinda just…crazy. I needed someone to take it out on. And I guess it ended up being James. Doesn't justify it, but there's your explanation."

"God, you _always_ do this," Carlos replies. "Fuck up, then blame it on everything other than you just choosing to be an asshole."

"I'm sorry, did you not just hear me say that my explanation _doesn't_ justify it?"

"I'm not deaf, thanks. But you're gonna go in there and tell James that you were stressed about stupid shit, he's gonna forgive you because he's James and he doesn't hold grudges, and then you're just gonna do it all over again. You and James have always been like this. You screw up, and take advantage of the fact that we're always going to forgive you."

"Carlos…"

Carlos sighs and shakes his head. "Save it, Kendall."

* * *

"James Diamond?"

Kendall doesn't say anything in response, instead rising to his feet and following Carlos over to where the doctor is standing. He glances at the older man's face, trying to figure out if his body language is indirectly telling them something about James. Sometimes doctors do that, stand a certain way, look a certain way, to try and make the news they're about to give seem less daunting.

"How's he doing?" Carlos asks softly. "Is…is he okay?"

"He's doing alright, for right now," the man replies. "It's a good thing you brought him in when you did. Coughing up blood is no joke."

"What's wrong with him?"

"Well, when he was brought in, he was spiking a 105 fever. That was our first concern. We got him into an ice bath, to lower it, and once he was around 102, we started doing some routine tests. The results of the blood test we ran were abnormal-"

"Abnormal? What the hell does that mean?"

"If you'd hang on for a moment, I'll explain. Because the blood tests were abnormal, we did a skin test, a chest X-Ray, and a culture, and we found-"

"Tuberculosis!"

All three of them turn to the source of the voice, and Kendall stares, wide-eyed, as Logan runs up to them. He doesn't know how Logan was able to hear the doctor talking from across the room, much less provide an answer, but knowing Logan, he's probably right. When it comes to anything medicine related, Logan is right almost one hundred percent of the time.

"I had the idea when I was leaving the store, so I went home to check one of my books, and I can't believe I didn't see it sooner. James has tuberculosis, doesn't he?" Logan says breathlessly.

The doctor, still looking quite mystified, nods. "You are indeed correct, young man. Now, there are two types of tuberculosis, or TB."

"James has the disease, right?" Logan says. "If he had latent TB, he wouldn't be showing symptoms."

"He does have the disease, but it is treatable. He'll need to be on four different drugs for two months, initially, followed by another four to seven months of only two of the four drugs."

Logan pulls out his phone and navigates to the Notes app. "Are you putting him on isoniazid, rifampin, ethambutol, and pyrazinamide?"

"You've certainly done your homework," the doctor says. "You're absolutely right."

Logan flushes a bright pink, slipping his phone back into his pocket. "I want to be a doctor. I really love this kind of stuff. And I do a lot of reading."

"That much is evident. You'll make a wonderful doctor someday."

* * *

"We still have an hour before we can see him. They're getting him situated in his own room. They gave him an anesthetic before they did the tests, because he was getting extremely anxious, so he's still out cold. He'll start to come out of it soon."

"Jesus christ, Logan," Kendall says, as the brunette takes a seat beside him. "How'd you know all of that stuff you were talking to the doctor about?"

"You pass your time playing video games and table hockey, I spend mine reading textbooks and learning about different types of diseases," Logan replies.

"Is James gonna be okay?" Carlos asks, in a small voice. "That sounded really bad…"

"He's gonna be fine, Carlitos. TB can be life threatening if not caught in time, but we caught it fairly early. One they get him started on the drugs, he'll start to feel a lot better."

Carlos nods, slumping back in his chair and closing his eyes. "Fucking hell. The past three weeks have been the worst three weeks of my life."

"You and me both, bud," Logan says. "I should've caught it earlier. I don't know why I kept thinking his symptoms didn't add up, and then pneumonia. Fucking hell. I should've known. I want to be a fucking doctor, for fuck's sake."

"Don't do that," Kendall mutters. "Don't beat yourself up like that. None of us had any idea what was going on, and the important thing is that James is going to be okay. Nothing else matters."

* * *

"You scared the shit out of us, Jay."

Logan swallows against the lump in his throat, and takes a seat in one of the chairs beside James' hospital bed. He closes his eyes briefly, trying to quell the rapid racing of his heart. Now that he knows James is okay, he's finally letting himself feel everything he's kept locked up recently.

"I'm sorry," James says softly. He grabs Logan's hand and squeezes tightly. "I didn't know it would get this bad. I thought it was just a minor cold, just something stupid that'd pass eventually."

"You coughed up _blood_ ," Logan mumbles. "And you were so sick the entire time, and maybe if I hadn't been such a fucking _idiot_ , I would've figured out that something was wrong sooner. Maybe if I hadn't listened to Kendall and used my fucking brain, I…I wanna be a _doctor_ , Jay. A _doctor_. And I couldn't even see that something was wrong with you. Maybe I'm just…not as cut out for this shit as I thought I was…"

"Stop," James murmurs. "Look at me, Logie. Listen to me. This was _not_ your fault. If anyone's to blame, it's me. I'm the one who refused to take medicine and didn't let you take care of me until it got too late. That's on me. I didn't tell you everything. That's not your fault."

"You didn't know better!" Logan cries. "I knew better! I should've pushed you harder, should've forced you to let me take a look, should've just…god, I should've realized that all I fucking do is ruin everything…"

"Logan, stop," James says firmly. "Breathe. Everything's gonna be okay."

"Fuck, James, I…" Logan trails off, bringing his hands up to cradle his head. "I can't do this."

"Do what?"

"Lie to you for any longer," Logan mutters numbly. "I relapsed."

He can't bring himself to lift his head and get a glimpse of James' disappointed expression. He already knows how the other brunette is going to react. The disappointment hurts way worse than the actual cuts do. It really sucks, knowing you've disappointed the one person you never want to hurt.

"Come up here."

"I don't want to hurt you or something, it'd be better if I stayed here, I, um…" He rambles. He gets talky when he's in situations of high anxiety. His mouth just moves, seemingly disconnected from his brain. He stutters and stumbles and rambles and talks way too fast and it's all just so embarrassing. This is why he used to have such a hard time talking to girls. It never made sense, how James was so effortlessly good at it, and he had to physically make an effort not to shake or let his voice tremble. Stupid fucking anxiety disorder.

James reaches for him, and either he's dropped a ton of weight in the past few weeks, or James is strong enough, that even in his sickly, weakened state, he's able to lift him. Either way, Logan finds himself curled next to James in the next moment.

James winds his arms around him and pulls him close. "You need to breathe, Logie. You're getting yourself too worked up. I'm not going to hate you forever, just because you relapsed. Relapse _is_ a part of recovery, y'know."

"It's been almost three years of being clean, and I just go and fucking ruin it in one day."

James sighs. "But you had your reasons, didn't you? You wouldn't have broken an almost three year clean streak because you felt rebellious. You had a reason for doing what you did. I can't fault you for that. And as much as you may think so, I am not disappointed in you. I want you to be okay, and I don't want you to cut yourself, but you don't need to worry about me being disappointed if you have a slip-up. You're recovering. It happens. It's okay."

"Carlos said some really shitty things to me, and I just didn't know what to do. It felt like I was in school all over again, like I was back in that locker, suffocating."

"I'll kick his ass," James mutters. "He doesn't have the right to make you feel like that, not after what you've been through."

"I deserved it, though," Logan says softly. "I was a dick about you being sick and I listened to Kendall over Carlos, when Carlos was trying to tell me that you were a lot worse off than I thought you were. I was being an ass. I deserved to have him yell at me. He shouldn't have to feel guilty about it."

"But that doesn't mean he's allowed to go off on you and be a dick about it," James counters. "And it _especially_ doesn't mean he's allowed to push you to the point of relapse. That was wrong. He needs to know that was wrong."

"It's not wrong if I deserved it."

James sighs. "Wouldn't you be protective, if my mom suddenly came back into my life and decided she was going to try and be a fucking parent for once?"

"That's different. She was neglectful and emotionally abusive. Carlos is our best friend."

"And that doesn't mean he can do no wrong. Trust me, I'm gonna yell at Kendall too. They don't get to pull this sort of shit and get away with it."

"So how come I do?"

"What do you mean?"

Logan shrugs. "You're gonna yell at Carlos for triggering me bad enough that I relapsed, and you're gonna yell at Kendall for influencing me not to believe you were actually really sick, but it's not like I'm not my own person who can't think for myself. I _did_ agree with Kendall."

"Because you believed what he was saying or because you were scared of his reaction if you didn't?"

"Jay…"

"No, listen. Kendall has always been really fucking stubborn. And he's always had a temper. He gets angry a lot, and sometimes, that makes him a real ass. Trust me, I've been dealing with it for years. He gets stressed because things happen which he can't control, he gets angry, and then he takes it out on me. And Logie, I've gotten used to taking his bull. If he wants to use me as his punching bag, fine. I don't mind."

"That's wrong, though."

"It is wrong." It's not James who says it, but instead Kendall, who's standing at the doorway with his hands shoved in his pockets. "It is wrong for me to constantly do that, enough that it's become so damn predictable. And I didn't even see it until Carlos told me what I was doing. I use you as a punching bag, and then take advantage of the fact that you'll always forgive me, no matter what. And that's not fair to you, James. You have no idea how sorry I am."

"At least you're realizing it," James says. "Better late, than never."

"Are you really _that_ obsessed with our band, that you have to sneak in lyrics all over the place?" Carlos appears behind Kendall, and slides past him, dropping into Logan's empty chair.

"You doing okay?"

"I feel a lot better, Carlitos," James replies. "Whatever shit they pumped into me must be magic."

"Otherwise known as extremely high strength drugs that work quickly," Logan supplies. "If you _weren't_ feeling better, there'd be a problem."

"No, but seriously, James, I haven't been a good friend to you in a long time." Kendall pauses, choosing to ignore Carlos' "no, really?" and moves on. "And I'm sorry for that. I don't want to be someone you guys are afraid of. You don't have to be scared into siding with me, Loges. If you think I'm being a dick, call me out on it, as Carlos has oh so graciously done this entire week."

"You can't lie, you deserved it," Carlos mutters.

"Don't be bitter," James chides. "He's still our best friend. He's learning from his mistakes, at least. It'd be a different story if he still didn't realize what an ass he was being."

"Thanks."

"Love you, Ken."

"I wish I'd seen this earlier," Kendall mutters. "Would've saved me a lot of arguments with you guys. I don't wanna fight. I hate fighting with you. You guys are my best friends. I wouldn't be out here, without you guys. "

"Yeah, definitely, because you weren't ready to come out here at all."

"Do you really think I would've been able to handle Gustavo by myself? I mean, you've seen the fights we get into _with_ you guys here. Imagine just me and him, every day, for three months." He shudders, shaking his head to try and rid it of the mental images. "We'd fuckin' kill each other."

"Like you haven't done that already."

"Oh, we've definitely pushed Gustavo's buttons," Logan says. "But I think he secretly enjoys it. He misses us. It's kinda sweet."

"And creepy."

"He's gonna really be a dick when the tour starts," Kendall adds. "But he wouldn't be Gustavo, if he wasn't."

"Speaking of, when _is_ the tour gonna start?" James asks. "Am I like, contagious, or something?"

"I'm not sure," Logan replies. "Because you technically can still spread infectious bacteria to other people, so going on a world tour really isn't the best thing to do. The drugs are for two months, and then you need four more months of just two out of the four you're on now, to completely knock it out of your system."

"Jesus christ, I didn't know it was _that_ serious…"

"TB can be deadly," Logan continues. "But we caught it early enough and we're in a country that has advanced treatment care options. Now, say, if we were in a country with no modern medical technology, you'd have a lot more to worry about."

"You just _love_ being able to spit out all your doctor knowledge, don't you? Especially since we're more likely to pay attention?"

"You guys don't listen to me any other time, at least you're listening to me now."

"Okay, all joking aside," Kendall says, taking a seat in one of the empty chairs. "I just wanted to say something."

"I smell speech."

"I hate that smell."

"Carlos, shut up. Ken, go ahead."

"We've been through hell together, guys, literally. We've been through everything together, good times and bad, and somehow, we've made it out alive. And we're about to go on a world tour, record a fourth album, and get more people out there to know and love us. It's not what we dreamed of, but it's still fucking amazing. And I may've let it get to my head a little, and god, I'm so sorry. I never got Hollywood fever when you guys did, but I think this is something similar. And trust me, it ends here. I'm done being a dick to you guys. I'm done being stressed and angry all the time. This is the beginning of something new for us, and it's gonna be amazing."

* * *

 **Thoughts? I'm really not sure how I feel about the ending...but eh, I like how this turned out. Thanks for reading, and I hope you all enjoyed.**


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